


Witch Hunt

by HellHathNoFury



Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Canon Typical Violence, Enemies to Lovers, F/F, Friends to Lovers, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-11-06
Updated: 2018-12-18
Packaged: 2019-08-19 22:15:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 8,951
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16543307
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HellHathNoFury/pseuds/HellHathNoFury
Summary: The year is 43 years Post Divergence. The world is still recovering from the Calamity, its scars still fresh in the memory of the elders. For the time being, arcane magic has been outlawed, and anyone found practicing it risks imprisonment or worse. Of course, there are still those who do, hiding among the common folk, practicing their arts in secret, far away from the prying eyes of Vasselheim and the Platinum Sanctuary…





	1. Prologue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey everyone!
> 
> So, I have been working on this fic for months now, and I thought it was time to share it with you all.
> 
> I hope you enjoy this prologue, more chapters soon to follow!

Another bucket was passed into Allura’s hands so hastily, half of the freezing water inside sloshed over the rim and soaked the bottom of her dress. She barely felt it. Partly because she was too focused on passing the bucket along to the person in front of her, and partly because the heat of the fire was so intense she could feel the skin of her face start to feel tight from proximity alone.

She and the other town’s people had been trying to douse the flames for over an hour now, but it seemed their efforts hadn’t made a difference. By now, even the foolhardiest of them had started to see the hopelessness of their situation.

The fire was well on its way to turn the house into kindling. The wooden walls and thatch roof not standing a chance against the raging inferno.

Allura clenched her fist. She refused to give up now. There was still something she could do.

She closed her hand around the locket she wore between her robes, feeling its power pound against her skin, waiting to be unleashed.

Her eyes traveled over the fifty, sixty people crowding the street, it seemed most of the village had come out to lend a hand. Eventually, her gaze fell on a small cluster of people standing off to the side. A young woman, pulling three small children against her skirts. Doing her best to dry their tears while keeping her own at bay.

‘We’ll be okay. We’ll be okay,’ she repeated, combing shaking fingers through the ash-covered hair of her oldest son. ‘All that matters is that you three are safe. I promise you, all will be okay.’

Allura looked from the family towards the house, flames licking their way up the walls towards the roof at an alarming speed now all attempts to douse the flames had been halted.

Three children and their mother were about to become homeless, and with autumn crossing into winter, that was as good as a death sentence.

The locket sparked in her hand.

Not on her watch. Not when there was still something she could do.

The incantation sprang to the forefront of her mind so clearly, it was as if she had just read it from her spellbook.

She could feel the magic taking shape, traveling up her from her clenched fist.

With a shudder, she let go of the locket, the magic evaporating.

She could do it, she knew she could, just not right here, in the direct view of all these people.

Making sure she wasn’t being watched, Allura ducked into an alley. She wove her way through the unpaved back roads, mud caking the bottom of her dress, the shadow of the forest looming over her. She needed to get to the back of the house, out of sight.

Luckily, the house was on the outside edge of the village, bordering the Timberlands. Yet it seemed people had clustered together even here to watch the fire.

Allura dove behind a tree as a group of people rushed past. They didn’t appear to notice her. Good.

As an extra precaution, she threw up the hood of her cloak, sticking to the shadows of the forest as she made her way around the burning building.

She had to be quick, but if anyone saw her, four people would be homeless, and as for herself, she didn’t want to think about it.

With a quick glance to either side to make sure she was truly alone, Allura darted across the path back to the house, slid open a previously locked window and climbed inside.

The smoke made her eyes water, and the heated air seared her lungs, but she couldn’t back down now. She had to fix this.

The fire seemed to have originated from the small kitchen. Intense white flames hungrily consuming everything around it, the meal that had been cooking on the stove not enough to sate its needs. While the kitchen was a mess, the back of the building was still mostly untouched, but with the fire’s monopoly, it wouldn’t be for much longer.

A gust of air from the open window blew back her hood, but for the moment, concealing her identity was the least of her worries as the moving air also fed the flames that were now dangerously close to engulfing her as well as her exit.

Amidst the chaos, Allura took a second to focus, clutching her locket in one hand while she extended the other towards the fire. This time she didn’t stop the flow of energy, letting it well up through her skin. Brilliant blue light surrounded her fingertips. Slowly, she balled her hand into a fist, her whole arm shaking with the unseen strain.

At first, nothing happened. The fire roared, spreading further in its eternal struggle for fuel.  But then, ever so slowly, the fire appeared to fold into itself, like fingers folding into a fist. The flames continued to shrink until all that was left was blackened, slightly smoking wood.

There was an uproar outside, the people on the street had seemingly noticed that the fire had gone down and restarted their efforts to douse the remaining flames.

Water hissed and steamed as it was thrown onto the fire. She should leave. People would have questions if they found her standing in what should have been a sea of flames. Yet, she hesitated.

In between the cheers and yelling coming from outside, she could make out the shrill and enthused shouts of young children, happy that their home might be saved after all. But if they could see what she was seeing right now...

The fire might be under control, but it had done a lot of damage. So much, in fact, that Allura feared the family might still end up without a place to sleep.

She bit her tongue but extended her hand again; this was going to hurt.

She reached up and pressed her palm flat against the blackened ceiling beam. For a second she felt nothing, and then agony. She nearly lost her concentration on the spell, so intense was the pain in her hand. The stench of burning flesh filled her nostrils, replacing the scent of smoke and fire.

The wood might no longer be on fire, it was still searing hot. It was like grabbing a white-hot coal out of a fire.

With a gasp, she pulled her hand away from the now intact beam.

She had read once that some burn wounds were so severe that the victim could no longer feel the pain. She almost wished that was the case here.

Her stomach twisted at the thought of touching anything else with her injured hand right now, but she was running out of time. The villagers were slowly but surely putting out the remaining flames, but the house still might come down.

She bit her lip so hard it bled but continued repairing the walls and ceiling. It wasn’t perfect, but it was habitable again.

Blinking the tears from her eyes and clutching her painful hand to her chest, Allura climbed back out onto the street.

Trying to catch her breath, she leaned back against a nearby building. Her whole body was shaking, she wasn’t sure if it was from the pain, the adrenaline or the exhaustion that always accompanied her magic. There was nothing she could do about the latter two, but she might have something for the pain.

She had to swallow as she saw the raw, mottled flesh of her hand. It looked almost as bad as it felt. With her other hand, she rummaged through the satchel at her waist, looking for a small vial amidst the paper and ink.

Once found, she gratefully chugged the reddish liquid in it. Almost immediately the pain in her hand eased, and the skin returned to its healthy, pink color. Even the stinging smoke in her lungs eased up a little.

She took a deep breath and let her head fall to the side, noticing the pamphlet pasted onto the wall.

With a sigh, she tore the poster away, crumpling it up and tossing it into the now smoldering fire.

Flames slowly spread over the parchment, curling and blackening the edges, slowly erasing the words written upon it.

_BY ORDER OF THE PLATINUM SANCTUARY,_

_ARCANE MAGIC HAS BEEN OUTLAWED UNTIL FURTHER NOTICE_

_ANYONE FOUND PRACTICING ARCANE MAGIC OR POSSESSING OBJECTS ENABLING ITS STUDY WILL BE PROSECUTED_

All Allura wanted to do was help people, but if anyone ever found how she did what she did, there would be another fire, and this time she would be tied to a stake in the middle of it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you liked it, consider leaving kudos/a comment, they mean a lot to me!
> 
> I have a few chapters prewritten, and I plan to keep an updating schedule of one chapter every two weeks. We will see how long that last though, haha.
> 
> If you ever want to scream to me about Kimallura or CR in general, hit me up on tumblr: [writersblockisabitch](http://writersblockisabitch.tumblr.com)
> 
> Thank you for reading!


	2. Chapter 2

‘Best get home soon, it looks like we’re gonna have rain, maybe even snow. ’

Allura pocketed the silver pieces and looked up at the swirling gray sky; her guess was on rain. ‘I will. Thank you, Adelaide.’

‘No, thank you, dear. Without your letters, I would never have gotten in contact with my sister again. Oh, I almost forgot.’ They gray-haired woman disappeared into her home for a moment. ‘Arnulf dropped these off earlier, you should have them.’ She held out a basket of apples to Allura.

‘Oh, no, that isn’t necessary! You already paid me. Besides, I am pretty sure Arnulf meant for you to have those. He has been commissioning me to write you letters for the past few weeks. He is quite the poet.’

Adelaide smiled. ‘He is a charmer, that man. Going through all that trouble for little old me. But I want you to have these, for all the wonderful work you do. Besides, Arnulf and I both agree you need to put some meat on those bones. I know you intellectual types are usually scrawny, but how are you going to get a man if you can’t swing an ax?’ She flexed her biceps. A lifetime of hard work had left Adelaide with impressive muscles even her advanced age couldn’t diminish.

Allura chuckled. ‘If men aren’t interested maybe I could find a woman who can swing the ax for me.’

Adelaide nodded. ‘That seems sensible to me. Now, take these apples.’

‘Alright, fine,’ Allura sighed, begrudgingly accepting the basket. ‘Thank you, and for what it is worth, I think you should give Arnulf a chance. His next letter is going to be lovely, and he loves a woman who can swing an ax.’

‘Who doesn’t?’ Adelaide grinned proudly.

Allura didn’t disagree.

With a smile still on her face, Allura set out towards her home, hoping to beat the rain there. Of course, she barely made it a minute before the sky broke open.

She sighed and pulled up her hood, rushing across the town square as the large drops rained down upon her. She was going to be absolutely soaked by the time she got home.

Mud splashed up around her feet as she hurried along the street. 

‘Tomas! Come inside now!’ a voice rang out from one of the houses lining the street. ‘You’re going to catch a cold!’

There was another splash and Allura looked over to see the boy jump in one more puddle before obeying his mother’s wishes and stepping inside the house. Apart from the charred scarring on the logs in the front wall, you could hardly tell this house had been on fire just a few weeks ago.

The boy waved at Allura from the doorway. Before she could wave back, his mother had slammed to door closed, giving her son an earful about tracking mud all over her nice clean floors.

Allura smiled to herself, it seemed life had returned to normal for the family remarkably quickly.

She started to shiver as she turned onto the narrow forest path, the rain finally having soaked through the too thin fabric of her cloak

Fallen leaves almost completely obscured the path to her home, it didn’t matter much to Allura. She had traveled the trail so often she could find her way through the forest blindly, and the more trouble other people had finding her place, the better. 

She didn’t live all the way out here just because she liked the forest.

When she passed a large oak tree, she turned right off the path. The forest was so dense here, the dark wood of her house blended right in with the bark of the trees until you were just a few feet away.

She had stumbled across it by accident while gathering ingredients a few months ago, and after tracking down the owner and convincing him she actually wanted to live in his abandoned shed and wasn’t crazy, it had become her home.

Enticed by the prospect of getting out of the rain, Allura ran the last couple of yards to her front door. The puddles splashing the hem of her dress with more mud and cold water.

Looking over her shoulder to make sure she wasn’t being watched, she extended her hand and muttered a few words. The door swung open by itself and Allura fled inside, immediately closing it behind her.

The latch scraped against the wood as she forced it shut, attaching the chain and locking the door before sagging back against it. Even all the way out here, it was best to be cautious.

She put the basket of apples down and snapped her fingers causing several candles to light up and illuminate the room with their soft orange glow. She did it again, and the fire in the hearth roared to life. With another wave of her hand, the water evaporated from her clothes and hair, leaving her dry but still cold.

Gods, how she hated rain. She would rather have had the snow, although in a few weeks when everything would be covered with the stuff, she would probably wish for the rain again.

She walked up to the fire to warm herself, rubbing her hands together to get some of the feeling and movement back in her fingers. Ever since she had burned her hand a few weeks ago, the skin of her palm and fingers had become stiff, making bending them painful when it was cold out. There probably hadn’t been enough glissfoil in the potion.

As the fire slowly warmed her up, Allura shot a cursory glance around the room, checking if all the shutters were closed and latched. They always were, but she always checked, force of habit.

Comfortable in the knowledge that she was indeed alone and unobserved, Allura pulled the book from inside her robes.

_ A Beginners Guide to Gardening  _ wasn’t the most impressive looking book; the leather was worn and cracked in places, and the pages were starting to pull away from their binding thanks to frequent use. And that was not because it was such a thrilling read or because Allura was  _ that _ bad at gardening.

She clutched the golden locket around her neck in her hand and concentrated on it as she spoke a familiar incantation under her breath. The feather she held in her other hand started to glow with bright white light.

The yellowed parchment rustled as she turned to the page where she had last left off:  _ On the Growing of Squash _ . Allura ignored the printed text on the raising of gourds and focused instead on the margins. The light of the enchanted quill revealed the neat notes scribbled on the side of the page.

She read back what she had already written and then produced a well of clear liquid from a shelf, as it fell into the light of the quill it appeared to be glowing softly as well.

Allura dipped the quill into the invisible ink and set to work on transcribing the final part of the spell into her book.

Teleportation.

Allura had been working on it for a while now. The spell itself was incredibly complicated and very powerful. She knew she was nowhere near skilled or strong enough to cast it. Without the proper focus, the spell would most likely tear her apart, and even if she did manage to make it work it would drain all of her magic. It would take a lot more practice to get powerful enough to use it reliably, and around here that practice was hard to come by. That didn’t stop Allura from enjoying the knowledge that one day she would be skilled enough to cast it. Until that day, just figuring out the incantation was enough.

The storm raged on outside, but Allura was oblivious to the streaming rains and clapping thunder, absentmindedly munching on an apple, her mind completely focused on her work.

This was where she belonged, what she was meant to do, too bad that if another living soul found out about it, she would surely end up in prison, or worse. But in the safety of her house Allura didn’t think about that, here her magic was allowed, and she used as much of it as she liked, it was outside she had to be careful.

* * *

‘Whatcha doing?’

Allura finished the word and then looked up from her writing, right into the smiling face of a young girl. Iris, the innkeeper’s daughter was staring up at her with wide eyes, chin resting on the edge of the table.

‘I’m writing a letter,’ Allura explained, placing the quill back in the inkwell to avoid dripping on the paper.

‘Can I see?’ Iris’s eyes went impossibly wider as she pleaded wordlessly with Allura.

‘Of course.’ Allura moved over on the bench to make room for the girl.

Excitedly, Iris climbed up next to her, looking over the letter.

‘Your letters are all wrong!’ she exclaimed, frowning at Allura.

Allura smiled. For the past few weeks, she had been teaching Iris to read, but the swirling script of this letter was a little more advanced than Iris was ready for. ‘They’re the same, just a little prettier than the ones I have been showing you.’ She pulled another piece of parchment from the stack, this one depicting a simple alphabet. She held them up next to each other. ‘See?’

Iris looked again, a spark of recognition coming over her as she compared the two. ‘D. D-e-a-r. Dear!’ she read, obviously proud of herself.

‘Very good!’ Allura praised. ‘You’ll put me out of a job soon if you continue like that.’

Iris beamed.

‘How about we practice writing today?’ Allura said, she really needed to finish this letter she was working on.

Iris nodded excitedly, pigtails bouncing up and down.

‘Alright, let’s do all the letters first,’ Allura said, quickly scribbling down some sort of worksheet where Iris could trace the letters. She then handed Iris her own quill and showed her to dip it in the ink.

Iris carefully imitated her movements and began copying the A.

Allura watched for a moment, adjusting Iris’s grip on the quill before returning to her own writing, certain Iris couldn’t make too big a mess just copying letters.

Of course, she was wrong.

After she put the finishing flourish on the letter, she looked over to see Iris’s hands almost completely black with ink, the paper smeared with drips and messy streaks and a few wonky letters.

Allura smiled. ‘Okay, maybe next time I will bring some chalk for you to write with. Now go wash your hands, I don’t think your mother will appreciate little ink handprints all over her nice clean tables.’

‘Wait!’ Iris said, her tongue poking out the corner of her mouth as she started to scribble something at the bottom of the page; IRIS in big, shaky letters.

‘Well done! You should always sign your work. Now go wash your hands.’

Iris jumped off the bench and ran out of the tavern to the well in the square out front.

Allura took out a handkerchief and started to clean the table. She shook the inkwell, Iris’s writing had used up a lot of it, and she would have to make a new batch soon, but it would do for now.

‘She didn’t bother you, did she?’ Nardin asked as she walked up, drying her hands on a towel.

‘No, not at all. Iris was just practicing her writing, she is getting quite good.’ Allura smiled and held up Iris’s paper.

Nardin smiled. ‘She’ll be the first one in this family to read and write. Are you sure you don’t want anything in return for teaching her? I have some coin to spare…’

Allura shook her head like she had done each time Nardin offered to pay her for the lessons. ‘There’s no need. Anyone who wants to learn should be able to, and besides, you already let me sit in your tavern all day without ordering anything. I would call us even.’

‘About that, here, on the house,’ Nardin said, putting a bowl of stew and half a loaf of bread in front of Allura. ‘You’re far too skinny.’

‘If you and everyone else in this village keep paying me in food, I won’t be for long.’ 

‘Well, we look after our own here. And we all agreed you need to eat better.’

Allura smiled and thanked the inn-keep and then got started on another commissioned letter. 

Unaware of how hungry she had been, Allura finished the stew in record time, continuing to write with her right hand. She’d become an expert at multitasking over the years.

She was just putting the finishing touches to the letter when a commotion outside startled her, a fat drop of ink obscuring the last word. The annoyance of needing to start over was overshadowed by the alarmed shouts coming from outside.

Allura’s eyes found Nardin’s and they both sped outside.

A bolt released from a crossbow impacted the doorway an inch from Allura’s head. On instinct she ducked down, expecting a second, more accurate shot soon.

‘Go inside!’ she yelled over her shoulder, scanning the square for the culprit.

The formerly neat and peaceful village square had turned into a battlefield in a matter of seconds. Market stalls had been overturned, and one looked to be on fire, people were screaming and running every which way. Then, Allura caught a flash of something small and green brandishing a crossbow: goblins.

‘Mom!’ a shrill voice rang out from the chaos.

Immediately Allura’s eyes zeroed in on the familiar voice. Iris…

One of the damned creatures had grabbed Iris and was now leading her away from the square and into the forest.

Without a second thought, Allura took off after them, shouting an incantation while extending her hand. Her whole body glowed and thrummed with power as several puffs of air shot forwards, increasing in speed and size as they coursed towards the goblins in Allura’s field of vision. The effect seemed harmless enough, but each puff of magic impacted with the force of a battering ram, caving in the skulls and chests of the goblins. Several of them falling lifelessly to the floor.

Goblins were notoriously selfish creatures, and while the fall of their companions probably didn’t bother them much, they had seen their own deaths at Allura’s hand flash before their eyes and thus aimed their weapons at her.

Allura heard the click of several crossbows and defensively threw up her arms, another incantation on her lips.

Two of the bolts splintered as they struck the magical force shield. One lucky arrow, however, managed to break through and hit her in the thigh.

Allura gritted her teeth, her step faltering for a moment. She bit down the pain and sent another salvo of magic missiles straight into the surviving creatures’ faces.

An eerie quiet fell over the village square, the battle over as soon as it had begun.

‘Iris, are you alright? Are you hurt?’ Allura asked as she walked up, ignoring the sharp pain of the bolt still embedded in her leg.

The girl shook her head slowly, eyes wide as saucers and mouth gaping open.

‘Come on, let’s get you back to your mother.’ She picked Iris up and put her on her good hip, limping back to the inn.

The moment she stepped out into the open, she nearly collided with a spear, held by the young man she recognized as the butcher’s son.

‘Put the girl down,’ he said through gritted teeth, and Allura could see the fear in his eyes.

‘Come on, Iris,’ Allura said, slowly lowering the girl to the ground, her hands up as she rose back to full height.

‘Iris, come here,’ Nardin hissed.

Iris hesitated for a moment, looking between her mother and Allura before darting towards her mother, hiding behind her skirts.

‘We saw what you did to those goblins!’ Arnulf, the kindly older men she had been writing letters for all week yelled.

‘She has magic!’ Adelaide added, the ax she was brandishing raised high.

‘She’s a witch!’

‘A mage!’

‘She’ll plunge this town into misfortune!’

They all started yelling, these people who she had known for months, who had never been anything but courteous to her, started slowly closing in on her, improvised weapons at the ready.

Allura backed up into the forest, hands still in the air to show she was not a threat.

No one came to her defense, no one mentioned that she had never harmed any of them in the time she had been here or that she had just saved them from a goblin attack. She hadn’t expected them to, yet it still stung.

Once she was out of reach of the spear, she waved her hand and disappeared from the villagers’ view in a flash of blue.

A similar flash appeared on the other side of the town, depositing Allura amidst the trees, halfway on the path to her home. The landing sent another shock of pain up Allura’s leg, and her knees nearly buckled from underneath her.

She took a second to bite back the pain and catch her breath. It had been a while since she used so much of her magic in such a short amount of time. She had forgotten how exhausting it was.

She looked down at her leg, her blood seeping through and darkening the fabric of her dress. She would have to take care of the wound sooner rather than later, but time was of the essence, and she needed to go home to pick up her things before they lit it on fire.

She limped the familiar route to her little house for the last time. It was a shame. She had lasted here longer than she usually did, and the place really had begun to feel like home, and she was a little saddened to have to leave it behind.

By the time she reached her front door her left leg felt like it was on fire, and the entire bottom of the dress was stained black with blood. She really hoped the bolt hadn’t been poisoned because then she really would be in a lot of trouble 

She unlocked the door with a quick hand gesture, the truth was already out, why not use all the magic she wanted?

She stumbled inside, grabbing whatever meager possessions she could and shoving them into the satchel slung over her shoulder.

By the time she was done her whole body was covered with cold sweat, and she could barely remain standing, the bolt in her leg had either done more damage than Allura had assumed or it was definitely poisoned.

She could hear shouting coming from outside. The angry mob would be here within minutes, and she was in no state to run. There was only one way out of this.

She took a deep breath, grabbed the locket around her neck, gathered every last bit of her magical reserves and focused her mind on a place far from here.

She would rather be scattered across the planes than to let these people capture her. She would be dead either way, at least this way she still had a chance.

Swirls of deep blue magic started to gather around her, tearing her in every different direction as the world spun out of control underneath her. For a second, she was surrounded by every color in the universe, and then there was only black…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, still no Kima yet. She will show up soon, I promise.
> 
> I hope you enjoyed this chapter, sorry not sorry for the cliffhanger!
> 
> Comments and kudos are always welcome <3


	3. Chapter 3

A rock skipped down the forest path, another following suit as it collided with the unforgiving metal of a boot. It bounced past its companion and disappeared into the underbrush, being given some extra speed as the person wearing the boot stomped along the dirt road.

‘Fucking assholes,’ Kima cursed, sending another pebble skidding off the path with a loud clang. Well, louder than the usual noises and grinding sounds her armor made as she walked, but not by a lot.

“ _ You drew the short straw, Kima. You travel back across ten leagues of dangerous forest by yourself while we sit on our fat asses in the village inn, Kima,” _ she muttered in a mocking falsetto. She really should protest more against this way of decision making, because somehow, she always ended up with the literal short straw, and it always caused her companions no small amount of joy. Being a halfling surrounded by humans and elves meant a never-ending array of short jokes.

Amongst the others of her order, Kima had quickly built up the reputation that such jokes would be met with broken bones, and most refrained for making them outright. Citing fate as the reason why Kima would always end up with the short straw was fair game however, and it would be until Kima proved they were rigging it, then it would be fate that they got their skulls bashed in.

A distant crack of thunder pulled Kima from her vengeful thoughts for a second. She had been so consumed by her annoyance she hadn’t noticed the sky darkening. The storm was still a ways off, but there was no way she would reach Vasselheim before the storm reached her.

Kima cursed and groaned, her armor was made for deflecting swords, not rain.

Fuck Issylra and its shit weather. And fuck her friends for making her go out in it to report the success of their mission back to Vord. She didn’t really understand why they just couldn’t all travel back together to tell Vord the wizard had been taken care of, but Udire outranked her, so he got to make the decisions, however stupid they might be.

The dirt path continued straight ahead, as it had for hours, and Kima hurried along, keeping an eye on the sky as well as the surrounding foliage, looking for anything that was stupid enough to attempt and jump out at her. She almost hoped something would, it might give her something else to focus on than the approaching rain and her annoying friends.

It was on one such pass that she noticed a pop of blue between all the green.

Immediately on guard, she reached back for the handle of her maul, fingers closing around the familiar leather grip.

Cautiously she stepped off the path into the tangled undergrowth, approaching the blue shape as quietly as she could. Her armor made it difficult to execute that plan to any sort of successful degree. You’d have to be deaf not to hear her coming. Deaf or dead…

As she got closer, the blue shape started to take the form of a woman. Blonde hair, blue dress and the fletching of an arrow sticking out of her thigh.

‘Shit.’ Kima shouldered her maul and hopped over to the blue-robed woman who sat slumped against a boulder, head hunched forward at an uncomfortable angle.

Kima pushed the instinct that this was somehow still a trap down. There was no way this woman was faking her injury. The bottom of her pretty dress was black with blood.

‘Please don’t be dead,’ Kima muttered under her breath as she felt for a pulse.

There was nothing.

She was too late.

No, wait. Kima shifted her fingers a little higher. There! It was weak, thready, but definitely a pulse.

She sighed in relief. The woman was still alive, now she just had to keep her that way. The source of all the blood was pretty clear.

‘This is going to hurt. Sorry,’ Kima said to no one’s benefit as the woman was very much unconscious. She grabbed the arrow shaft and pulled it out in one quick movement.

There was no sign the woman had even felt it, just more hot blood welling up out of the wound, coating Kima’s hand.

Kima gripped the platinum amulet around her neck and called forth her healing magic.

‘Heal,’ she murmured. She felt the magic flow through her hand into the woman’s body, knitting torn flesh back together and replenishing the lost blood.

‘Come on. Come on,’ Kima whispered, continuing to pour her healing magic into the woman’s form until she was sure the bleeding had stopped.

She wiped her hands on the grass, trying to get the worst off the blood off before she tucked a lock of gold hair behind the woman’s ear.

No response.

Kima frowned and felt for a pulse. It was much easier to find this time, stronger if still a little slow. So why hadn’t she woken up yet? What had she missed?

She looked the woman over, was there another wound? The woman was bloody all over, tiny specks of it covering her face like the summer freckles Kima so loathed on her own face, but most of the blood seemed to have originated from the wound in her leg.

Kima pushed up the hem of the dress, the fabric heavy with blood. With the somewhat clean fabric of her tabard, she wiped the blood around the place where the arrow had struck away. And cursed.

There had been too much blood to tell before, but there was a roadmap of pulsing black veins radiating out from the now healed-over puncture mark. Poison.

Kima gritted her teeth and gripped her holy symbol again, thumb rubbing over the sharp edges. She wasn’t sure if she had enough magic left to cure it. She had always been more of a fighter than a healer. She was good in a pinch, healing cuts and broken bones in a fight, but she left the more serious injuries for the clerics to deal with.

There weren’t any of those around now, so she would just have to try.

She closed her eyes, trying to remember how to get rid of poison. It was different than normal healing, and she couldn’t recall ever doing it before.

‘Here goes nothing,’ Kima said through gritted teeth. She poured the rest of her magic into the woman, focusing on neutralizing the poison.

The woman’s body shivered violently, black smoke curling up from her skin.

It was working!

Kima continued for as long as she could, sweat beading her forehead as she used more magic then she had. Once there was nothing more to give, she fell back, breathing hard.

She blinked to clear the dark spots from her vision. It felt like she had been working out all morning without pause, all from using a little magic.

Once her vision cleared and her breathing evened out she sat back up.

The web of dark veins on the woman’s leg had definitely shrunk, but it wasn’t gone completely. She simply hadn’t had enough magic.

Kima cursed. Now what was she going to do?  She couldn’t just leave the woman here and get help. Something else would surely find her, and their first instinct would probably not be to help her but to eat her.

She couldn’t take her with her either. The woman, while she didn’t look like she weighed much, was still significantly taller than Kima and carrying her would require both arms, which would leave them vulnerable to attack.

Honestly, who had thought it was a good idea to split up the party? If her friends had been here, she wouldn’t have had this problem.

Setting up camp in the clearing might be possible, take a rest and wait for her healing powers to return. The downside was that it would take hours and the woman didn’t look like she had that kind of time.

It was the universe that decided on their course of action as the sky broke open and big, fat drops of freezing water rained down on the ground and on the two women in the clearing.

‘Shit,’ Kima cursed.

The trees offered some protection from the weather, but if they stayed put for the night they would freeze. If they continued on to Vasselheim they would be out in the rain for some two hours, but after that, they would be dry and safe, and the poison could be cured completely.

With a sigh, Kima pulled a warm cloak from her pack and laid it over the woman. It didn’t cover her completely, but it would at least keep her somewhat dry and warm while they traveled through the Vesper Timberlands.

She pulled the woman into her arms and made her way back onto the path. As suspected she didn’t weigh much, but because of the size difference it was still awkward, and it would slow her down.

She sighed again. Why was it always humans that got themselves in trouble in the middle of nowhere? You’d never see her carry a gnome or another halfling to the city through miles of forest. No, they were sensible folk and stayed away from places like this, especially while bleeding and poisoned. Honestly, humans and the like were all too tall for their own good. They had all sorts of stupid ideas about their capabilities and got themselves hurt at every turn.

She spent a good half-hour mentally cursing all of humankind before her thoughts wandered to the very particular human currently in her arms. She wondered what had happened to her to end up alone, bleeding out in a forest, hours away from any sort of civilization.

Kima hadn’t seen any signs of a fight nearby, so the woman must have gotten hurt somewhere else and fled. She wasn’t dressed like a fighter, maybe she had gotten ambushed somewhere down the road. She didn’t much look like a traveler either in her brightly colored dress and thin cloak, but there was a heavy leather pack slung over her shoulder, so she must have been going somewhere.

What Kima did know was that the woman was beautiful. Her long golden hair, twisted back in two braids, was slightly darkened by the rain but not any less vibrant for it. She had delicate features, high, arching eyebrows and a gently sloping nose with some summer freckles still visible. She looked vaguely elven in appearance, an otherworldly kind of beauty, maybe she had a distant fey ancestor.

While she tried to piece together the unconscious woman’s life story, she also kept an eye on their surroundings, making sure that nothing was getting ready to attack and knock them both unconscious. So far everything with half a mind had sought shelter from the cold rain and hadn’t bothered them, but Kima knew that she couldn’t let down her guard, that’s when they got you.

They had been walking for nearly two hours now, and all the while the woman hadn’t stirred or made a sound. Which was impressive as she could not have been comfortable with the rain streaking in her face and soaking through her clothes, not to mention that being slammed against Kima’s armor with every step could not be pleasant. It was also a sure sign that despite Kima’s healing effort, the woman was not out of the woods yet (no pun intended).

When the towering walls of Vasselheim doomed up in front of them, Kima almost felt relieved.

‘Just hold on a little longer, we’re almost there,’ she whispered to the unresponsive woman, quickening her pace, eager to arrive within the sanctuary of her city’s walls, they didn’t call it the bastion of civilization for nothing.


	4. Chapter 4

Allura groaned. Her head was pounding something fierce, and her whole body felt like it had been crushed by several boulders.

_ At least you still have a body _ . Allura frowned, not sure why she would think that.

She tried to open her eyes, but her body didn’t seem to respond to her brain, and they remained closed. Gods, her head. How could something hurt so much? Had Arnulf finally managed to convince her to try his homebrewed potato liquor, was that why she felt like she had been pulled through the wringer?

She tried to recall Arnulf’s always smiling face as he would offer her his drink. She couldn’t picture it, the heavy, painful fog in her mind distorting his features into an angry sneer. Strange.

Maybe she needed some more time to sleep it off. She was so tired still. What time was it anyway?

Her watch would be on the nightstand. All she needed to do was open her eyes and get it which was easier said than done.

Opening her eyes was like forcing apart stone doors. Slow, heavy and cumbersome. Opening her eyes should not take this much effort. Something was wrong.

She pushed through the pain and exhaustion, making her muscles obey her mind’s commands. Something was wrong; something had happened. Was she dead? Where was she?

Panic was starting to set in as her body refused to respond, but then finally, finally, her eyes opened.

‘What happened?’ she rasped, blinking furiously against the startling brightness of the light.

‘I was kind of hoping you could tell me that,’ a nearby voice said. It didn’t seem familiar.

Allura tried to turn her head to see who had spoken, but her muscles screamed in protest.

She tried to calm herself. Panic was never helpful — one thing at the time. She couldn’t move, but her eyes were open now. So, what could she see?

It took a few more blinks for eyes to adjust, but once they did, she could see. A stone ceiling. Unremarkable and unfamiliar.

She could feel herself start to panic in the unfamiliar surroundings again when a memory resurfaced.

An attack. There had been an attack on the village.

‘Goblins,’ Allura said. ‘Goblins attacked my village.’

‘Is that how you got shot?’

Shot? Right! She remembered the salvo of bolts flying at her, one piercing through her shield, hitting her leg. She remembered the pain.

She slowly brushed her hand over her thigh, feeling the raised edges of a scar.

Her throat went dry as she remembered the next bit. The villagers - her friends - turning against her, chasing her out of her home.

Tears welled up in her eyes. ‘I- I fled. I tried to run but my leg- There was so much blood- The pain- I- I couldn’t.’

‘Hey, shh, shh. It’s okay. You’re safe. You got away. You’re going to be just fine.’ Something touched her hand - another hand - squeezing hers softly.

Allura nodded, sucking in a shuddering breath.

‘That’s right. Deep breaths,’ the voice said.

With all her strength, she finally managed to turn her head, coming face to face with the person the voice belonged to.

It was a nice face, Allura thought.

‘Hi,’ the woman said, her smile crinkling the large scar on the right side of her face. It ran all the way from her eyebrow to the corner of her mouth. Pulling up her lip a little, giving the appearance of a permanent smirk. ‘I’m Kima. What’s your name?’

‘Allura,’ Allura said, trying to smile back.

Her attempt made Kima laugh, and the sound made Allura feel warm inside.

Her eyes fell closed again. She halfheartedly struggled to open them again. She needed to make sure she was safe, but she was still so very tired. Besides, she trusted Kima. She had kind eyes and a nice smile. She wouldn’t hurt her. She knew that.

‘Where- Where am I?’ she muttered.

‘You’re in Vasselheim,’ Kima said. ‘No goblins will get you here. I promise. Go back to sleep; you’ll feel better when you wake up.’

Allura nodded. Sleep sounded good. No goblins sounded good. Vasselheim didn’t sound as great, but she would deal with that later. Right now, she needed to sleep.

* * *

The second time she woke up, Allura only felt like she had been crushed by a single boulder; a vast improvement. Her head still pounded but it was more manageable now.

Ever so slowly, she managed to push herself into a sitting position. Her muscles groaned and protested, but they acquiesced to her orders.

The light was different this time around, softer. It must be later in the day, Allura thought as she looked around the room. It appeared to be hewn straight from the rock. No bricks or mortar anywhere. Just roughly cut, pale gray stone all around. There were narrow slits high up in the walls to let in the sun as well as several lit braziers burning with smokeless fire on the other side of the room. There were a couple of other beds, but Allura’s appeared to be the only one occupied. There wasn’t much else of note. It was simple, utilitarian — a true Vasselheimian infirmary.

Allura was torn between laughing or crying about her situation. There wasn’t a worse place for a wizard to be than Vasselheim, and her botched teleport spell sending her there was beyond ironic.

She still couldn’t remember exactly, but she figured that was what had happened. The last thing she remembered was coming home, an angry mob on her heels. 

Casting the teleportation spell had been a risk that had paid off, mostly. The villagers hadn’t caught her, and her mind and body were still intact, and not scattered across the planes like she had feared might happen. The downside was that she had traded one dangerous location for another. And for a wizard, it didn’t get much more dangerous than Vasselheim.

It wasn’t the end of the world, she figured. Sure, everyone in this city wanted her dead, and there was a disproportionately large group of people in the city trained and actively trying to do so, but she could have died yesterday by a goblin arrow or by her own magic tearing her apart. Right now, she was alive, and as long as she kept a low profile, she would be fine. She’d survived hotter fires.

‘Hey, you’re awake!’ a familiar voice said.

Allura looked down, noticing a small human, no, halfling, staring in the doorway. Kima.

Involuntarily, she smiled.

‘And I see you’ve gotten better at smiling,’ Kima said as she approached. ‘How are you feeling?’

‘Weak, and sore,’ Allura said, her voice still rough and broken from disuse.

‘Right, that would be the poison.’

Allura nodded, with the way she was feeling, she wasn’t surprised that bolt had been poisoned.

Kima filled a cup with water from the pitcher on the nightstand, pressing it into Allura’s hand. ‘You should drink this.’

Allura brought the cup to her lips. Or attempted to. Her arms were heavy, and her hands were shaking violently. Before she could spill the contents down her shirt, Kima quickly folded her hand around Allura’s, helping her drink the entire glass, and then half of another. She hadn’t realized how thirsty she was.

‘Thank you,’ Allura said, feeling a little better with something in her stomach at least, but it had only highlighted how hungry she was. ‘Kima?’

‘Yeah?’

‘Could I trouble you for some food? I am quite hungry.’

Kima jumped up. ‘Right! Of course, you are. I should have realized. I would be hungry after five days too. I am hungry five minutes after my last meal, really.’

Allura’s eyebrows shot up. Five days?

‘Sorry, did you say five days? I’ve been unconscious for five days?’

Kima nodded. ‘At least five days. I don’t know for how long you were out before I found you. You were in bad shape. It was only yesterday when you started to come into consciousness for a few minutes each time. You weren’t responsive. You would just open your eyes and mumble some things before passing out again. This morning you woke up for real, I don’t know if you remember?’

Allura nodded, she remembered that one.

Kima put her hand on her knee. ‘But you’re awake now, which is good. Let me get you some food. We can talk more after.’

Allura watched Kima as she walked off. Five days. She’d slept for five days. That poison must have really been something. It was a miracle that it hadn’t killed her, especially in combination with the Teleportation spell. It would have been a lot for her body to handle. Kima must have worked some wonders of her own to get her stable and awake.

She didn’t have much time to dwell on it, as Kima returned, carrying a small plate of bread and fruit.

Allura was so hungry she felt like she could eat all the food in one bite and then the plate as well. But after just a few bites of bread, her stomach started to feel uncomfortable, and she had to stop.

Kima looked at her regretfully. ‘Ghenn said that might happen. Sorry. I know you’re still hungry.’

Allura sighed, and let her head fall back, closing her eyes.

‘Are you tired again? I can go and let you sleep,’ Kima said, chewing on a piece of bread Allura had left.

Allura shook her head. ‘No, stay. I’m not tired, I think. I mean, I am. But not the sleepy kind of tired.’

‘That’s the worst kind of tired.’ Kima nodded.

Allura tended to agree. Her body and mind where exhausted. She could barely lift her arms, and everything hurt. Everything. She felt weak and helpless, every nerve raw and exposed, and it was not a good feeling.

She nestled a little deeper into the pillows, trying to fight off another wave of panic, it was easy to get stuck in her head now her body was so fragile. Thankfully, Kima was there to distract her, tossing pieces of bread into the air and skillfully catching them with her mouth.

It made her chuckle.

‘You want to try?’ Kima asked.

Before Allura could voice her negative reply, Kima had already thrown the bread and hit her square on the forehead.

‘You suck,’ Kima laughed.

‘I suck? I can’t move! What’s your excuse for throwing like that?’

Kima shrugged. ‘I’m not great at range.’

Allura laughed, it hurt her stomach, but it still felt good. She couldn’t remember the last time she had truly laughed. She lived most of her life in the shadows, avoiding real connections with people. It was safer that way, but that didn’t mean it didn’t get lonely sometimes.

She plucked the piece of bread from her sheets, holding it out to Kima. ‘I don’t have anything better to do, why don’t I help you perfect your ranged abilities?’

Kima beamed and took the bread from her hand. ‘You’re on.’

It took ten minutes, and half a loaf of bread before Kima managed to get a piece of dough into Allura’s mouth.

Allura smiled and chewed the bread as Kima did a victory lap through the empty room.

‘Told you I could do it,’ Kima grinned, brushing some of her less successful attempts of the sheets. Either in an effort to clean or to hide the evidence.

‘Very good,’ Allura said, her laugh interrupted by a yawn, her second one that minute.

‘I should probably let you sleep. I’ve heard it helps with the healing process,’ Kima said, gathering up the rest of the bread. ‘I’ll see you tomorrow for breakfast. We can see how well I can throw bacon and eggs.’

Allura chuckled. ‘I look forward to it.’

‘I hope you feel better tomorrow. Goodnight, Allura.’

‘Goodnight, Kima,’ Allura said, lowering herself down on the pillows.

Before leaving, Kima put out all but one of the braziers, plunging the room into twilight.

Allura stared up into the dark. Her body was tired, but her mind didn’t feel like sleeping yet; she had done far too much of that these last few days.

She waited for Kima’s footsteps to disappear completely and then reached for the book on her nightstand. She ran her thumb over the familiar cracked leather, scratching away some dried blood with her nail. She had kept an eye on it throughout her conversation with Kima, but she hadn’t dared to touch it.

She always got a little uneasy when her spellbook wasn’t on her, but in Vasselheim it was probably best to pretend it was any old book.

Allura opened the book and sighed, the first few pages were stuck together with blood. She looked around the room, making sure no one was there, and then dove under the covers.

For a fleeting moment, she felt like a little girl again, reading under the covers far past her bedtime. She pushed the thought away - those times were long past now - and focused on the book.

She whispered the incantation and snapped her fingers.

Nothing happened.

She did it again and again, but to no avail, the page remained covered in blood.

She tried different spells, spells she had known all her life, but there wasn’t even a single spark of magic to show for her effort. Something was wrong with her magic. Something was very, very wrong. And for the first time since waking up in Vasselheim, Allura was afraid.


End file.
